Not All Sugar and Spice
by Kiye
Summary: When two enemies look in the Mirror of Erised, both see the others' reflection, yet they refuse to face that they might both have a place in each other's hearts, until an event forces them to either refute or accept their heart's own statement...
1. Ch1 I Show Not Your Face

Chapter One: I Show Not Your Face But Your Heart's Desire  
  
"Can it be.  
  
I'm not meant to play, this part.  
  
Now I see,  
  
If I were truly to be myself.  
  
I would break my parents' heart."  
  
"Somehow I cannot hide,  
  
Who I am,  
  
Though I've tried.  
  
When will my reflection show.  
  
Who I, really am."  
  
-Mulan soundtrack  
  
* * *  
  
"Really?" Harry asked, peering Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts School. "The mirror is back?"  
  
"It's the prophecy Harry," Dumbledore replied gravely. "It says here." he pulled out a dusty, rolled manuscript. "Which shows the Heart's true meaning will fathom what even the best cannot." He smiled slightly. "Apparently the mirror is smarter than myself."  
  
"It's enchanted," Harry pointed out. "It has an extra advantage."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Thank you for that boost of self-esteem Harry," he said. "But I suggest you go back to your dormitory now."  
  
Harry nodded before giving Fawkes, who had been sitting on his shoulder, one last stroke and got up. "G'night Professor."  
  
"Good night Harry."  
*  
  
Harry was strolling back to the Gryffindor common room when he bumped into an invisible figure.  
  
"Who's there?" demanded Harry. //Who else has an invisibility cloak?// He wondered-for all he knew, only he had one in the whole school.  
  
But Harry wasn't surprised when the blonde head of Draco Malfoy appeared from thin air.  
  
//Of course. Malfoy's rich enough to buy Hogwarts if he wanted.//  
  
"Potter," acknowledged Malfoy coolly. "Wandering after hours-aren't you scared that Voldemort will come and kill you in the dark?"  
  
"I was talking to Dumbledore," said Harry shortly. "And Voldemort can't come into Hogwarts, though I'm sure you'd been glad if he did kidnap me."  
  
"I would," agreed Malfoy instantly.  
  
Harry didn't comment, but somewhere, deep down in his heart, an old wound was cut open and it bled.  
  
"So, what are you doing? Shagging another girl in the trophy room?" Harry asked, smiling to himself. //It pays off to have the Maruader Map.//  
  
Malfoy looked taken aback. "O-of course not!" he objected, a little too quickly. Harry smirked and raised an eyebrow. "And don't copy my signature smirk!" he said huffily, seeing the other boy's expression. "You looked like a constipated Weasley!"  
  
"It's not your signature smirk," Harry said, starting towards the stairs. "The world, contrary to your belief, doesn't revolve around you, so I can do what I want to do. And, I do not look like Ron when he's constipated."  
  
"I-" started Malfoy, then crossed his arms. "So, what were you talking to that old man about?"  
  
Days from now, Harry would've cursed himself for answering that question.  
  
"Don't call him an old man," snapped Harry. "And we talked about the Mirror of Erised, not that it matters since if you looked in it you'd just see your own reflection."  
  
Malfoy began smirking furiously. "You don't even know what it's called," he taunted, grinning. "Erised? Can't you see that's 'desire' spelled backwards?"  
  
//Damn,// thought Harry darkly. "Whatever," he muttered. "Just go away Malfoy, and I won't report you to McGonagall."  
  
"You know," Malfoy said thoughtfully. "We never had a duel in our first year."  
  
"Since you chickened out and didn't show up," said Harry, glaring at Malfoy. He remembered the incident well-it was when he, Ron, and Hermione had found Fluffy on the Third Floor and in the process almost got killed.  
  
"I was occupied," replied Malfoy smoothly. "But now I formally challenge you to a duel. The Mirror room, right now." He checked the silver watch on his wrist. "At eleven o' clock sharp."  
  
//With what, I wonder?// "What'd you do, bring poisoned needles?" said Harry irritably. "I want to go to sleep Malfoy-"  
  
"Unless you're too scared?" said Malfoy, drawing out his wand and twirling it reflexively. "Don't tell me famous Harry hero Potter is conceding to Draco Malfoy?"  
  
//I'm not a hero.// "Don't call me that," said Harry, drawing out his wand impulsively. "Fine. Lead the way Malfoy."  
  
The other boy smiled. "I knew Hero Potter wouldn't back down," he drawled, turning into an empty corridor. "I knew-"  
  
Harry held his wand up to Malfoy's throat. "Do not CALL me that!" he hissed at him. //I killed Cedric.I killed *Sirius*.I'm no better than Voldemort- I'm no Hero. I was the main ingredient in Voldemort's resurrection; I.//  
  
Malfoy looked surprised, but nodded and kept silent until they reached a small dusty room, the same room Harry remembered from his first year. //What's Dumbledore playing at? He knows I found it here-I could just come back and get obsessed with it all over again.//  
  
"In a Malfoy Wizard's Duel, you look in the mirror first," Malfoy said, gesturing towards the mirror. "Then you duel, fighting for whatever you saw in that mirror."  
  
"I thought-" Harry began.  
  
"There was only one mirror?" Malfoy said. "There should be, but then, Malfoys' don't follow the rules." He smiled, an almost-sincere smile, and stepped aside.  
  
"What do you see in the mirror?" asked Harry curiously, then bit his lip. //Why do I care?//  
  
"The Malfoy riches, always," said Malfoy, not missing a beat. " 'I show you not your face but your heart's desire'" he quoted. "That's my heart's desire. How about you, Potter? Saving the world?"  
  
Harry didn't answer, but instead walked over to the mirror, expecting the many images of his parents and ancestors, but what he saw was not even close to what he was anticipating.  
  
He saw the reflection of a pale, slender, and blonde Slytherin that was unmistakably-  
  
Draco Malfoy.  
  
* * *  
  
Draco could see that Potter was shocked. Shocked and horrified. //Wonder what he's seeing,// he thought wryly, //maybe my reflection; no wonder he's gaping. I am sexy aren't I Potter?//  
  
"So, Potter, your heart thinking something illegal this year?" asked Draco. "Is it because-"  
  
"No," said Potter, unsteadily. "It's nothing important." But that was an outright lie; he was paler than uncooked pita bread. "Let's duel."  
  
Draco shrugged. "Alright-but let me look in the mirror first."  
  
Potter nodded and closed his eyes. //Wonder what he saw,// thought Draco. //It really did shake him up.// He elegantly walked to the original mirror, and watched a figure emerge from the mist-  
  
Harry Potter.  
  
"No!" snapped Draco, fighting to urge to break the mirror. "This is crazy! Is this some kind of joke Potter? Because it's not funny!"  
  
Potter stared at him. "What did you see?" he asked hoarsely. "Did you see-"  
  
"I saw you," said Draco, distastefully. "That's impossible-I wouldn't care if you died right this instant except perhaps you'd spill some blood on my new robes; expensive too, they were."  
  
"Go to Hell Malfoy," said Potter. "To tell you what, I saw you in that goddamn mirror, which is so absurd I think I'll go puke in the Gryffindor dormitories about now."  
  
"Spare me the sight," retorted Draco. "Hero Potter puking-that'd make the headlines-Wonder Boy Feels Sick: Is our Hero actually very vulnerable?"  
  
Potter glared at him. "Are you going to duel or not?"  
  
"Fine," said Draco, pointing his wand at the other boy's heart.  
  
"Good," said Potter.  
  
"1-2-3-Expelliarmus!" cried Draco.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" cried Potter at the same time.  
  
A jet of red light and a jet of green light hit each other squarely before intertwining into a golden ball. Both boys stared at it in shock.  
  
//What IS that?//  
  
Suddenly a sweet, melodic singing could be heard and Fawkes, the Headmaster's phoenix, swept into the room before perching on the globe and letting out one wavering last note.  
  
No one spoke or moved.  
  
Then Potter broke the silence. "Fawkes? What are you doing here?"  
  
The phoenix fluffed its wings and flew to the ground, clutching the golden ball in its talons before nuzzling it with its head then-  
  
Fawkes swallowed the globe.  
  
"Hey!" said Draco, indignantly. "I made that globe, and I didn't say you could eat it!"  
  
"The world does NOT revolve around you," repeated Potter, looking quizzical. "What in the world is going on?"  
  
Draco glowered at him. "Duel over because of unwanted involvement," he said pointedly, and stalked out the room.  
  
Potter continued staring at the bird, and he could almost swear Fawkes winked at him.  
  
*** *** *** ***  
  
*A/N: Please review!! I changed some stuff, added lyrics, and yup ^.^ The constipated Weasley retort completely from the lovely Culavariel, a reader.loff you much!  
  
I'm trying to make this as canon-ed as possible, so no Sirius, you guys! Sowwie! *sniffles*. If you have questions/comments feel free to email me at glassy_depths@hotmail.com  
  
~Lily 


	2. Ch2 Not Supposed to Be

Not All Sugar and Spice - Chapter Two - Not Supposed to Be  
  
*A/N: Note that * * * indicates a POV change. Remember, this is SLASH people! M/M, guy/guy action.(*grin*) so if you can't stand this, please kindly leave. Otherwise, ENJOY!  
  
* * *  
"Why do you always do this to me?  
  
Why.couldn't you just see it through me?  
  
How come you act like you just don't care at all?  
  
Do you expect me to believe that I was the only one to fall?"  
  
***  
  
"You didn't!" was the first comment Harry received the next day when telling Ron and Hermione about the Mirror encounter after dinner the next day.  
  
"No.I swear! It was awful.I mean."  
  
"Malfoy! UGH!"  
  
"Ron-there is a very plausible explanation for this." interjected Hermione.  
  
"You mean Dumbledore did something to it? If he had a grudge against Harry, he could use slightly less grotesque ways of trying to scare the living daylights out of Harry!"  
  
"Ron!" Hermione snapped, "It's very explainable-the mirror was probably the wrong mirror. There are mirrors that show you who else is in the room besides yourself.Aurors use it, usually."  
  
"You're saying we didn't look into the right mirror?" asked Harry, looking relieved. "But Malfoy said-"  
  
"Now you're believing what Malfoy said!" exclaimed Ron, looking outraged. "What's next? Malfoy's misunderstood?" He paused thoughtfully in mid-rant. "So that wasn't the Mirror of Erised. What was is it then-the Mirror of seeing the Ugly Git Behind You?" At this, he shuddered dramatically.  
  
"Watch who you're calling ugly," said a voice from the doorway. The trio turned around, mouths wide open.  
  
"I didn't want to see your tonsils, Weasley," said Malfoy calmly, his gray eyes scanning the room carefully, taking in all the drapes, the fireplace, and the comfy sofas. "Much brighter than the Slytherin common room," he mused. "Everyone's so biased towards goody-goody Gryffindors aren't they?"  
  
"What are you doing here?" stuttered Ron angrily. "Who told you the password? You-you put Imperius on someone to tell you! That's an Unforgivable curse! You'll-"  
  
"No, I won't," said Malfoy. Harry couldn't help but wonder where his signature drawl was. "In fact, I don't even know the password. Dumbledore wants to talk to all of you," he jerked his head in the direction of the trio.  
  
"About what?" asked Hermione suspiciously.  
  
"I dunno," said Malfoy, frowning. "The old man wouldn't tell me until you arrived. Figures-Hero Potter and his little gang must be included in whatever this is."  
  
"Don't-" started Harry tensely.  
  
"Okay, okay!" snapped Malfoy, throwing his hands up into the air in annoyance. "Alright, I'll keep my mouth shut, just follow me up to the Headmaster's." he crossed his arms and glared at them all.  
  
The three goggled at him.  
  
"What?" he asked, now positively annoyed.  
  
"You-" said Hermione breathlessly.  
  
"Just said you'd shut up yourself, no insults or back-stabbing added," finished Ron, who looked like Voldemort had declared he had decided to go around eating cherry pies instead of torturing Muggles.  
  
Malfoy grimaced. "I'm just trying to make everything go as fast as possible. Now will you come, Potter?"  
  
Harry nodded uncertainly, but walked over to the portrait hole.  
  
"We can't just go!" exclaimed Ron vehemently. "It's a trick-he's being nice so later he can just go and kill us all or something."  
  
"The Sneakoscope isn't going off," said Hermione thoughtfully, holding the little clear top in her hands (the Sneakoscope Sensational Model XI) which was balanced perfectly at its rounded tip, completely still.  
  
"He could've disarmed it," suggested Ron, desperately.  
  
"Yes," said Hermione sarcastically. "Malfoy has magically frozen time and disarmed the Sneakoscope before stopping the spell and telling us to follow him."  
  
"It's alright, Ron," said Harry reassuringly, fingering his wand. "I've got my wand. Hear that Malfoy? C'mon."  
  
Malfoy sighed. "Is it that hard to trust me?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," the three of the chorused automatically.  
  
"Mmhmm."  
  
Was it just Harry's imagination.or did Malfoy's eyes just flicker with something like.sadness? But the flash was so quick it was hard to tell whether it had been truly there, or just a trick of the light, a burst of shadow bringing out the gray in his eyes. Besides, Malfoys didn't have feelings.  
  
Surely you would know your enemy after six years.right?  
  
* * *  
  
"Malfoy?" Weasley asked incredulously. "But-he's *evil*! He's probably just a spy for the Dark Side!"  
  
Dumbledore shook his head. "Some things have changed Mr. Weasley," he said, gently but still chidingly. Draco shivered.  
  
//Some things.have changed. //  
  
"Like what?" challenged Weasley. Draco saw Granger raise an eyebrow.  
  
//Not very Gryffindor-ish to talk back to Dumbledore. He must really hate me. //  
  
As much as Draco didn't want to admit it, somewhere deep in his soul, he wished to one day see those blue eyes look at him with something other than hate; and those green eyes.  
  
Draco looked up and saw the everyone in the whole room staring silently at him. Potter was eyeing him with something not akin to scorn, but carrying a good dose of incredulity. Weasley looked as if he was going to explode. But what bothered him the most was the sympathetic look on Granger's face, a sad little frown on her lips.  
  
//Mudblood, sympathetic?!//  
  
"But-" started Weasley.  
  
"Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore, almost coldly. "May I remind you that this decision is for Harry to make."  
  
At this, Weasley floundered and turned to Potter. Potter shifted nervously in his chair.  
  
"Um." muttered Potter distractedly.  
  
Weasley was mouthing something that looked suspiciously like, "Told you Dumbledore has a grudge against you!"  
  
"But what will happen?" Potter finally blurted out. "What do we," (he glanced at Draco edgily) "do there?"  
  
"Why Delhi?" asked Weasley.  
  
"It's where all magic's sources are held at," said Granger very proudly. Dumbledore nodded at her.  
  
"Very good, Hermione, but there's slightly more to it than that."  
  
Suddenly, Fawkes let out one quivering, melancholy note and flew to Dumbledore's shoulder. Dumbledore ignored him completely.  
  
"That's where the Dark Magic is stored," said Potter slowly.  
  
//He's suddenly had a drastic change in IQ, // thought Draco, sarcastically, but felt a little knot start twisting in his stomach.  
  
Dumbledore nodded again. "The Foundations of the Wizarding World," he said. "Remember what I told you, Harry, in your second year?"  
  
"Our choices determine who we are, or turn out to be," said Potter slowly.  
  
//Our choices.//  
  
//That's SHIT. //  
  
Draco clutched at his armchair almost violently, his hands shaking. Everyone looked at him strangely, except for Dumbledore.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy," said Dumbledore very quietly. "Please remain calm."  
  
Draco nodded mutely, trying to shake the images from his head.  
  
//All wrong.//  
  
//ALL WRONG. //  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"Softening, are you, Draco?"  
  
"No-no! I just don't want to."  
  
"What do you want then, dear boy?" The tone was quiet, but more threatening than Draco had ever heard.  
  
"I-"  
  
"Hoping someone will love you?" It was so derisive.  
  
"No-I-"  
  
"Get out."  
  
"Father-Father-"  
  
"Get out. Now."  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
He closed his eyes, subconsciously sliding his usual indifferent mask on once more.  
  
//That's what's expected of a Malfoy.//  
  
But his thoughts were bitter, bruising.  
  
***  
  
It's not supposed to feel this way.  
  
"It's not supposed to hurt this way.  
  
Listen to what we're not saying.  
  
Try to really look at me and see my heart."  
  
***  
  
Weasley was looking at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted fuchsia tentacles.  
  
"But the whole school will notice," said Granger. "And what about Lucius Malfoy?"  
  
"That's fine," said Draco, abruptly. "Lucius will not have a part in this."  
  
Dumbledore brushed back one wispy strand of hair. "If Harry and Draco manage to," he paused, "bottle up all the Dark Magic there, the effect will be beyond anyone's belief or knowledge."  
  
He let this sink in for a while.  
  
"It will make a huge difference in the world, Harry," said Dumbledore, gently. Potter rubbed his eyes.  
  
"I'll do it," said Potter, the determined look set in his eyes. It was the same look he had when he was looking for the snitch; his green eyes sparkled like crystals, except sharper, brighter, and, in a twisted way, more sinister.  
  
If Hero Potter could ever look sinister, Draco reflected bitterly. Even when dealing with Draco, he didn't look *sinister*.he looked, as much as Draco hated to admit it, mainly just irked, sometimes reaching to the state of utter annoyance; it was like Draco wasn't even worth his hate.  
  
But simply never sinister.  
  
Weasley opened his mouth to protest again, but seeing Potter's determined look, flounded and didn't start.  
  
//Harry bloody hero Potter. //  
  
"How about you, Malfoy?" asked Potter directly.  
  
//What do you think I'll do? Scamper?// Draco pulled himself up. "Right along," he said smoothly.  
  
"So what exactly do we do?" asked Potter, turning to Dumbledore.  
  
"Delhi is situated on a plain," said Dumbledore, "that feeds into the ocean. As much as the magic volume is there, the lands somehow keep its usual magical density very low, so it looks perfectly ordinary, no sparks or whatever." Here a slight, almost devilish, twinkle crept into his eyes.  
  
//Dumbledore is NOT devilish,// repeated Draco to himself ten times, shuddering.  
  
"There is a trail marked by one wizard that leads to the entire source of Dark Magic," continued Dumbledore. "It's labeled 'Paz', though it leads to anything but peace, as its namesake suggests."  
  
"How come Voldemort hasn't gotten it yet?" asked Potter. Draco shivered again, and it wasn't from cold.  
  
"Special.requirements must be fulfilled in the pair going there that none in the Dark Side have," replied Dumbledore, as if he knew the question had been coming. "I do believe both you and Draco will fill these requirements."  
  
"What requirements?" asked Weasley. "Malfoy can't compare to four thousand and sixty-seven Harrys."  
  
"And one Weasley can't compare to one million Malfoys," muttered Draco.  
  
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore firmly. "I have the utmost faith in both of these students."  
  
"How do we bottle the magic?" asked Draco. "Do we take bottles and hex them inside?"  
  
"I cannot say," said Dumbledore. His eyes twinkled again, but merrier this time. "You will both know when the time comes."  
  
Draco stared at Dumbledore in bewilderment.  
  
//He's telling us to go somewhere and do something and we don't even know *how* to do it! That's bloody unreasonable! //  
  
He turned to Granger. Surely *she* knew all the answers?  
  
But this time, Granger was chewing her lip in concentration.  
  
There was a moment's silence before Dumbledore clapped his hands together agreeably. "Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley, you will have to invent something," he gestured roughly with his hands. "Nothing obnoxious, but something reasonable, to make up for Harry and Draco's absences. The staff already knows they will not be here for a while."  
  
Granger set her lips into a line, not having thought of an answer yet. "Alright," she said, patting Potter slightly on his arm with her best 'sorry-but-it's-good-for-the-world' look on her face. Potter shrugged with a slight grimace.  
  
"For the common good of everyone," muttered Draco again. "Just look at me, turning into Harry Potter II, or Draco Potter."  
  
His comment was slightly too loud, as Potter heard and promptly retorted, "You'd as much as be Harry Potter II as me being Harry Malfoy."  
  
"But, could you.elaborate?" continued Potter, gathering his attention again to focus on Dumbledore. "I mean, how do we get there? Where do we *sleep*? How long will it take? How can we bottle up the magic? We can't do something if we don't know how to do it!"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Ms. Granger has had an effect on you over the years," he said. Draco wasn't sure if that was an insult or a compliment. "But I have a specialized Portkey for you, a continuously-filling bag for you two, and other necessary equipment in the bag," he paused. "This will take a while. The trail is long.and not exactly easy. But, nothing is easy."  
  
For Draco, that sounded much too much like the Malfoy quote: Everything has a price, and nothing is easy.  
  
Weasley was obviously still digesting the idea of Potter going on a *mission* with *Malfoy* of all people. Draco smirked.  
  
"The result," whispered Dumbledore faintly, almost eerily, again, "will be more than anyone ever thought would come to pass."  
  
Without warning, rivulets of pearly, thick, silver tears rained from Fawkes' eyes, splashing heavily against Dumbledore's shoulder.  
  
//Phoenixes only cry to heal someone,// thought Draco, puzzled. //So why now.?//  
  
Dumbledore stroked the bird's back once, and Fawkes let out a trembling, heart-wrenching note that filled the air with a sudden cold, like the breezes of shadows. Draco tried his hardest to not to look violently sick.  
  
Looking immensely grave (//If wrinkles were money, Dumbledore would be filthy rich by now,// thought Draco) Dumbledore took a glowing orb from his desk and turned to Draco. "Mr. Malfoy and Harry, please pack your necessary items and meet back in my office in half an hour."  
  
Begrudgingly, Weasley and Granger pulled themselves up, whispering to Potter and watching Draco with distrust. Draco only sighed and trudged down to the Slytherin dorms.  
  
* * *  
  
"You understand this may change the wizarding world immensely," repeated Dumbledore, holding up a clear tube filled with Fawkes' tears. He placed this in Harry's sack and pulled the string vigorously.  
  
"But," Harry began hesitantly, wishing Hermione and Ron were still here to back him up. "How do we bottle up the magic? Do we fill the requirements thoroughly.? Professor, I-"  
  
"I know you want to stay out of the fight," said Dumbledore. "But, Harry, this is important. This could change the world."  
  
Harry looked down. How could he be so selfish? The wizarding world looked up to him for support, but he only ran away, wanted to hide in an unknown corner forever, afraid to face the world, not wanting to face the world.  
  
***  
  
"Go and think about,  
  
Whatever you need to think about,  
  
Go and dream about,  
  
Whatever you need to dream about,  
  
And come back to me when you know just how you feel,  
  
You feel."  
  
***  
  
// I trust Dumbledore more than anyone in the world. //  
  
He breathed in heavily.  
  
"Trust me, Harry," said Dumbledore slowly. "Trust me."  
  
Malfoy watched him with a keen eye, no smirk visible on his face. Harry wondered what was wrong with him. //Where's the Draco Malfoy we all know and love?// he thought dryly. //Cat got your tongue, Malfoy?//  
  
Dumbledore held up the orb, which was glowing a faint green color, and tossed it on the floor into the middle of the room. The globe erupted into smoke, and a scarlet ring began appearing from the wooden floor, hissing as it grew clearer. Faint flecks of what appeared to be ash, or dust, filled its center. It looked celestial, enchantingly so; the light filtered through it in beautiful waves and ribbons, like a present from the Gods above.  
  
"Step into the center," instructed Dumbledore, and Harry crossed into the scarlet ring, feeling a tingly sensation where the dust touched him. It felt feathery, light and sweet, like the gentle spring breeze coming to take his troubles. He could see that Malfoy had closed his eyes, a glimmer of a smile playing across his face.  
  
"Go!" roared Dumbledore, and a rushing sound engulfed Harry's ears. The last thing he saw before a cloud of black covered his eyes was Fawkes, tears still flowing silently down his face.  
  
****  
  
****  
  
****  
  
Song by Avril Lavinge, "Why" (Unreleased CD, "Sk8ter Girl")  
  
*A/N: Please review!! *wails* only 2 reviews for Ch. 1 at ff.net!! I got like twenty at fictionalley! Please R&R! I don't want to stop w/ this fic.it's got my heart & soul ^.^  
  
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU V.V. (author of "Clear") for betaing this chapter! Mindy & Jayne, thank you also!!! Big schnoogle & cookies for you all!  
  
I'm putting my BEST effort into this.you can drop me a line at glassy_depths@hotmail.com if you have questions, comments, I'll answer and loff u forever, but all flames (and in this chapter anti-Avril attacks) will be dismissed most blatantly, thank you. (  
  
I know, not much of a plot yet.but I'm more into the emotions/life rather than big plotlines, though I *do* have some snatchets of what's to come!! This chapter wasn't the best written.but I mean, BACKGROUND INFO!!!!!! ^.^ So yeah.enjoy info as it lasts. Later you'll ask for it, and I won't give you any.hehe.  
  
I know, it's *supposed* to be angsty, but the angst comes in huge bites, so um.yeah. And later too. Have fun with those big bad angst-patties when they come whizzing! ^.^  
  
Okies.  
  
HERE for ff.net  
  
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HERE for email  
  
~Lily 


	3. Ch3 The Boy of Two Faces

Not All Sugar and Spice - Chapter Three - The Boy of Two Faces  
  
**A/N: Of course, thanks wholeheartedly to my lovely three betas V.V, Mindy, and Jayne ^^. One of my fave chapters!  
  
**WARNING: This is SLASH. M/M. Don't read if you don't like.  
  
***  
  
"You're a song  
  
Written by the hands of God.  
  
Don't get me wrong cause  
  
This might sound to you a bit odd  
  
But you own the place  
  
Where all my thoughts go hiding  
  
And right under your clothes  
  
Is where I find them  
  
***  
  
They were dropped most unceremoniously on a patch of poor grass.  
  
"Mmmph," said Harry, standing up. "Need a hand, Malfoy?"  
  
Malfoy glared at him before rising from the ground. "Never," he said.  
  
"What is wrong with you?" asked Harry. "You were looking like some lonely orphan back in Dumbledore's office, and now."  
  
"I refuse to answer any vague questions like that," said Malfoy imperiously. "You sound like an uneducated hippo."  
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Why a hippo?"  
  
Malfoy frowned.  
  
"I thought you were a Death Eater," said Harry.  
  
At this, Malfoy's frown turned into a bitter smirk. "My father disowned me," he said very simply, in a tone that did not invite conversation.  
  
"You were what?"  
  
"No need to rub it in, Potter. It's too bad Granger and Weasley aren't here to hear this. They'd be very goddamn pleased."  
  
Harry looked at the blonde boy searchingly. "Well," he finally managed. "I'm.I'm sorry."  
  
"I don't want your pity."  
  
Harry had a feeling this little talk was not going to last very long. "So," he said, looking around him. They were in the middle of a plain, long, dry, and wide. The grass was yellowed and a few distant trees were scattered about in the scenery.  
  
"Just beautiful," muttered Malfoy disdainfully. "This is a disgrace to the wizarding world."  
  
"Let's just go," said Harry, shouldering a little cloth bag. "Now, which path?"  
  
"Isn't there supposed to some ceremony about the heroes of the Light?" said Malfoy sarcastically. "Oh, hail the great champion who will overcome Darkness?"  
  
"This is really why I wonder why you, of all people, were chosen," said Harry. "Don't really tell me you were misunderstood."  
  
"Perhaps I am," said Malfoy, and, before Harry could object, he swept off in a northerly direction, his black-green robe billowing elegantly after him.  
  
//He looks so.//thought Harry, //well, *elegant* and *graceful*. Unlike me,// he added, but quickly hurried after the other boy.  
  
"You know, Malfoy," said Harry, catching up as Malfoy stopped to sit on a rock. "You could be more popular if you were nicer."  
  
The same flicker of something Harry couldn't decipher peeped through Malfoy's mask of indifference. "Perhaps," said Malfoy. "But I've already chosen my path." He spat his words like they were venom.  
  
"'Some things have changed'," said Harry. "Nothing has changed if you're still the same little Death Eater you were last year."  
  
Malfoy grabbed him by the shirt collar. "Shut up," he hissed. "So maybe I looked so wonderfully innocent back in Dumbledore's office, but that was nothing. I was thinking."  
  
"You do admit you were innocent," said Harry triumphantly.  
  
"I. Was. Thinking." said Malfoy. "What is it, Potter? Want to turn me to the Light Side?"  
  
"I just wanted to know why you're suddenly so different," said Harry, trying to ignore a little shiver of.something.he felt where Malfoy's fingers brushed his neck.  
  
"Dammit, Potter," said Malfoy, letting go of Harry. "Why can't you let it go?" he sounded almost pleading.  
  
"You were fine last night, too," said Harry. "So something must have happened today."  
  
"Look at Potter's mind go," muttered Malfoy.  
  
"You just don't want to look bad in front of me," said Harry, feeling pleased. Usually Hermione pieced the clues together. He could get used to this; it had been a long time since he'd felt pleased.especially around either Hermione and Ron.  
  
"Just leave it, Potter," said Malfoy, his voice starting to waver. Something was melting behind his eyes, the wall he stood behind was beginning to disintegrate. Unconsciously, he reached around his neck and stroked the chain around his neck.  
  
It spurred a memory in Harry's mind.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
Harry had been eating a dinner of sandwiches and pudding, chatting with Ron and Hermione. His eyes kept straying towards Malfoy, still unsure about last night's little encounter. Suddenly, a gray, moldy-looking owl swept in and landed in Malfoy's lunch. Uproarious snickering could be heard around the Slytherin table and Malfoy closed his eyes, defeat etched across his face, before taking the parcel.  
  
Then Harry had thought perchance he wasn't seeing correctly, but Malfoy was holding something in his palm, and the chain he always wore with the little crystal ball at the center snapped open, and something fell out.  
  
//Huh?// thought Harry. //Where's the letter?//  
  
But that had been all, besides the fact that somehow Pansy's robe had caught on fire. Malfoy had put something back into his crystal ball charm and continued eating dinner as if nothing had happened. It seemed that only the Slytherins knew what had happened; everyone else was looking at Malfoy quizzically before returning to their turkey sandwiches.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
"The letter," said Harry. "Something was in the letter."  
  
This didn't have the effect Harry was expecting. Malfoy stared at him blankly.  
  
"The parcel, at dinner,"  
  
Malfoy said nothing.  
  
"You were acting strange from the time you came to get Ron and Hermione and I," pointed out Harry. "What happened?"  
  
Malfoy closed his eyes, his lips quivering. Harry felt, well, uncomfortable. He wasn't used to this kind of Malfoy; he was used to the smirking, spoiled Malfoy, his nemesis. No one could get under his skin like Malfoy did, and Malfoy had abused that power throughout their years. This year wasn't much different, but the lack of support he had from the Slytherins had been.well.unexpected. Malfoy had been caught by himself more than once, and he hadn't come off better.  
  
"Do you know Dark Magic?" asked Malfoy suddenly.  
  
The question caught Harry off-guard. "What?"  
  
"Do you know Dark Magic."  
  
"Some," said Harry. "What we were taught in our fourth and fifth years, and seen some other, more advanced types." He added darkly.  
  
Malfoy opened his eyes. "Of course you wouldn't," he said. "Potter can't blemish himself with un-pure magic."  
  
"You forget I was blemished ever since I was one," snapped Harry.  
  
Malfoy looked him directly in the eye. "You may have been blemished," he said slowly, "but you were always good weren't you. Everyone wanted to keep you unblemished and pure. But I was born to be blemished. I'm alive because I'm supposed to be blemished." His voice was soft, but Harry felt a chill in the air. Even the gentle breeze that had tickled his hair a moment ago now felt freezing.  
  
"I don't know what you mean," said Harry, starting to step back.  
  
"Let me tell you a story," said Malfoy. "The Weasleys and Malfoys were best friends once, but a Weasley cheated on one of the Malfoys, and the Malfoys condemned the Weasleys to be hot-headed, poor, and unable to settle down. In response, the Weasleys condemned the Malfoys to be forever evil in their ways." Malfoy held up a hand to silence Harry. "That was 4000 years ago. And it still flows in our blood. The same as when you save another wizard's life, when another wizard or witch condemns you, it will flow in your life."  
  
"Ron." whispered Harry.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
Harry stepped into his dormitory, and almost fainted from the sight. Tears sprung into his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. The boxed ring dropped from his fingers.  
  
The two didn't seem to notice, until Ron looked up. His eyes were burning with desire until they landed on Harry.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
"Over the years the original condemnation grew. Malfoys were condemned to never love, to never be able to love, to be hurt by love, and the Weasleys were condemned to cheat."  
  
"Why are you telling me this?" asked Harry, his voice hollow.  
  
"Because you wanted to know," said Malfoy simply.  
  
***  
  
Underneath your clothes there's an endless story,  
  
There's the man I chose,  
  
There's my territory.  
  
And all the things I deserve  
  
***  
  
"I wanted to know why your attitude changed so suddenly," said Harry. "Not.about this."  
  
"There's more," said Malfoy, and Harry's didn't argue. "The Malfoys have been devious all their lives. If they were to be hurt by love, they would never love, and they would make sure of that. That's where Dark Magic came in. There's a ritual to make sure you can't love. Loving someone is a kind of energy; it can make you stronger, or it can break you until you only want to die. The Malfoys decided they didn't want the strength, and the generations always performed the rituals on their fifteenth summer." Malfoy stopped and sat back down on the rock, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes.  
  
"You didn't perform the ritual," said Harry. "But.why?"  
  
"I don't know," said Malfoy. His voice was spiteful, hateful. "I don't know. And I lost everything because of my uncertainty."  
  
"Condemned to cheat," repeated Harry. "Condemned to cheat."  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"No, Harry.it's not like that."  
  
"I thought you were made for me," Harry said brokenly. "I thought."  
  
"I'm sorry." The reply was so fast it cut off Harry's sentence.  
  
//She doesn't care//  
  
It was so obvious, and Harry had thought everything had been okay. He thought perhaps now he could face the Wizarding World again. Perhaps now he could be whole again; perhaps she could patch up all his wrongs and his scars, visible or unseen. He had thought he had his life back.  
  
But he had been wrong.  
  
Completely wrong.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
* * *  
  
"What is it to you?" asked Draco. "Hero Potter can have everything and everyone he wants."  
  
This affected Potter more than any of his insults ever had.  
  
"I never had anything," snarled Potter. "I never did. I never do. I and I never will."  
  
"Do you think I'm better off?" Draco asked, tears threatening to spill. "How much do you think I want to go back and perform that ritual. To have my life back? At least you're still the love of the entire wizarding world, Hero of Hogwarts. I'm nothing to the Slytherins. I had been their King, but now I'm just a toy, something everyone wants to push around, and can push around." He looked down and could see his hands were trembling.  
  
"How much do you think I wish I was never born?" shouted Potter. "How many lives do you think would have been saved if I wasn't born?"  
  
* * *  
  
Because of you  
  
I forgot the smart ways to lie  
  
Because of you  
  
I'm running out of reasons to cry  
  
* * *  
  
"You saved people, Potter," said Draco, starting to regain his composure. How could he be so stupid, to show his weak side to Potter of all people? But the letter, the owl.it had meant everything was over. Everything he knew as a boy, as a teen.was over. He had just wanted to think, and he couldn't help the emotions that came alongside that.  
  
"I. Killed. People," said Potter through gritted teeth.  
  
"This is not the point of this little mission or ours," said Draco. "We're not here to discuss the virtues and terribleness of Harry Potter."  
  
Potter sucked in his breath. "Do you.love anyone Malfoy?"  
  
Draco stopped dead in his tracks. "Do I what?"  
  
"Do you love anyone?"  
  
"I'm cursed, remember?" said Draco, trying to avoid answering the question.  
  
"But you didn't follow through the ritual," persisted Potter.  
  
No one knew how to make Draco feel as awkward as Potter could.  
  
Draco stalled as he scanned the area for the trail. "No," he said finally. "I don't want to get hurt."  
  
Potter bit his lip. "I know," he said.  
  
The silence that hung between them wasn't formidable, or tense. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable either. The silence was full of understanding, as if each side knew or understood the other.  
  
Potter got hurt.  
  
"Let's go," said Draco, pointing to a hazy brownish sign. Potter nodded agreeably.  
  
Call the news reporters. "Potter and Malfoy have a civil conversation".  
  
"So, Malfoy," said Potter, conversationally, obviously trying to direct their talk into another direction. "How many girls have you shagged so far?"  
  
Draco almost smiled. "How many do you think?" he asked breezily.  
  
Potter seemed to be counting his fingers, which, strangely, Draco found very.adorable. He shook himself. I did *not* just think Potter was adorable, he thought to himself crossly. But then, Draco hadn't had a very *normal* childhood.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"Be a man, Draco."  
  
"But Daddy, I wanna go play outside!" whimpered the little six-year-old Draco. "But-but-but."  
  
"How will you ever get anywhere in life without studying?"  
  
"Then I *won't* get anywhere in life!" shouted little Draco triumphantly.  
  
Lucius slapped him, his razor-emblazoned gloves biting into Draco's cheek.  
  
Draco stared at his father in horror. His father had hurt him.his father who always said Draco was his own flesh and blood-he'd never hurt little Draco.he'd never.  
  
Draco fled the room, the little droplets of blood dribbling from his cheek. Walli, the house-elf, quickly fetched him disinfectant, and little Draco rubbed the clear paste onto his face, tears still flowing openly.  
  
How could his father slap him? He said.  
  
The medicine stung his cheek, making it hurt more than before. Draco threw the tube across his room angrily. How could he.he said he loved him.  
  
"That's what I've been saying Draco. You're nothing close to a man yet," Lucius said, entering Draco's room and neatly ducking the flying tube.  
  
"I don't wanna be a man-I-"  
  
Lucius pulled him close by his collar.  
  
"Don't forget this lesson today, Draco," he said very softly, looking into Draco's eyes. He could still see the pastel blue rubbed into his gray. A soft, kind, blue. It shouldn't be there.  
  
Draco watched his father's eyes. They were only gray; piercingly and shockingly so. Suddenly, he didn't want to be like his father. He wanted to be.Draco. Just Draco. Little Draco.  
  
Lucius let Draco go.  
  
"Just remember, Draco. To love someone will hurt you, and when they turn their back on you, you'll be crushed; and they always turn on you. Love hurts. Remember that, Draco."  
  
Lucius swept silently out of the room.  
  
And Draco remembered his lesson that day.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
"Malfoy?"  
  
Draco turned away. When he was six he wanted to be a Draco, nothing more. But what was he now? Merely.another Malfoy.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Er.is that a yes or no?"  
  
Oh yeah. We were talking about people I shagged. "What?" demanded Draco.  
  
"I said, er, twenty?" asked Potter, almost timidly.  
  
"I'll make a deal with you," said Draco very suddenly.  
  
Potter looked taken aback. Draco could just see the thoughts whizzing in his head: 'Malfoy, making a *deal* with me?!'  
  
"Er, okay Malfoy."  
  
"I'm not a Malfoy," said Draco.  
  
"You were born a Malfoy, Malfoy. You are definitely a Malfoy," Potter raised his eyebrows. "Besides, you act like one."  
  
Potter never saw Draco reach into his pocket.  
  
* * *  
  
They walked for a while in silence before the brown side came clearly into view. The temperature was mild, and Harry thought it was.well, a nice walk. The breeze cleared his head, and Malfoy was.almost comforting to walk with.  
  
That so does *not* work, thought Harry, annoyed, before turning to Malfoy. "So, the deal."  
  
"I'll tell you how many girls I shagged, if you tell me how many girls you shagged," said Malfoy dully. Harry noticed he was wincing.  
  
Harry sighed and closed his eyes.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"I didn't want to hurt you.you know, last night."  
  
"Don't worry. You didn't."  
  
"I wanted to tell you-"  
  
"Oh! Ron's coming!"  
  
Their conversation was abruptly broken off as Ron joined them, smiling happily.  
  
"Could you excuse us Ron?" asked Harry nervously, his stomach full of butterflies.  
  
Ron regarded him suspiciously. "Of course."  
  
He turned back to her again. "I just wanted to say-"  
  
She turned away. "Don't say it, Harry."  
  
"Why not? I-"  
  
"NO!" she screamed at him before running back to the Tower.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
He remembered the utter confusion he felt. He had thought perhaps he really did hurt her during the night. He remembered how desperate he'd been to talk to her during classes, mealtimes, breaks; but she'd coldly ignored him. He was going to give up before he thought: she must think I don't love her. Quickly disengaging himself from the game of Exploding Snap with Seamus, Harry got out his invisibility cloak and walked into Hogsmeade with only one thought on his mind.  
  
* * *  
  
* * *  
  
* * *  
  
* * *  
  
Song by Shakira, "Underneath Your Clothes"  
  
* * *  
  
*A/N: First of all, thanks to ALL the reviewers!! I love you guys! I've got the plotline somewhat jiggled into shape, and I know the last paragraph too! ^.^ So anyways.  
  
Second.be prepared FOR THE ANGST!!!!!!!!!  
  
Remember, rituals/amulets/bands are very important. Pay special attention to Malfoy's little necklace *wink*  
  
(it's not kinky, by the way)  
  
But anyways, yes. Thanks so much to Jayne & V.V. and Mindy for her lovely support and betaing, though I could finally do with another ^.^ and thanks to all people who reviewed for The Last Tear and When He Just Won't Wake Up.  
  
Again, Y! Post -   
  
Email - glassy_reflections@hotmail.com  
  
~Lily 


	4. Ch4 Never,Ever,Forgiven

~*~Chapter 4~*~  
  
~*~Trying ~*~  
  
* * *  
  
*A/N: * * * indicates POV change //.// indicates thoughts. THANK YOU & much glomps to V.V., Mindy, and Jayne for betaing. THANK YOU THANK YOU! (Reviewers thanks at the bottom)  
  
*Warnings: SLASH. Don't read if you don't like.  
  
* * *  
  
I know when he's been on your mind  
  
That distant look is in your eyes  
  
I thought with time you'd realize it's over, over  
  
It's not the way I choose to live  
  
And something somewhere's gotta give  
  
A share in this relationship gets older, older  
  
You know I'd fight for you but how could I fight someone  
  
Who isn't even there  
  
I've had the rest of you now I want the best of you  
  
I don't care if that's not fair  
  
'Cause I want it all,  
  
Or nothing at all,  
  
There's nowhere left to fall when you've reached the bottom it's now  
  
Or never."  
  
* * *  
  
Ron was furious.  
  
No, he wasn't.  
  
Nope. Ronald Matthews Weasley was outraged.  
  
His best friend had just-just left with that little brat and told him to not interfere. He was still storming and fuming outside Dumbledore's office when Hermione lightly touched his arm.  
  
"Ron?"  
  
Ron sighed. "Yeah, Herm?"  
  
Hermione was chewing her lip. "Do you think.he wanted to leave?"  
  
A sudden thought flashed through Ron's mind.  
  
What if Harry never forgave him?  
  
He had always assumed Harry never, well, cared. He seriously didn't act like it. He had a distracted look in his eyes all the time, even this year, like he was puzzled over something constantly, but, when Ron asked him about it, he just muttered, "It's complicated".  
  
That was one of the main annoyances in Harry's behavior. It was like Harry felt superior over them, like he knew things and felt things both Ron and Hermione didn't. And it bothered him relentlessly.  
  
Of course, they'd spent a long time over the summer talking about 'it', over and over until Ron could almost memorize the inscriptions on his bedroom wall. Being unskilled in latin, Ron had no idea what they meant, but he could spell them anyways.  
  
But what if Harry never forgave him?  
  
Ron cursed himself silently about his condemnations.  
  
Maybe if he'd been sneakier.just a bit more patient.  
  
"Ron?" Hermione's voice was louder now, to shake him from his reverie.  
  
"Oh. Yeah. Where were we?"  
  
Hermione's lip trembled. "I think Harry never forgave us."  
  
"It was last year!" snapped Ron irritably. "Besides, he's been acting pretty normal all year! He doesn't *hold* grudges that long!"  
  
"He still seems like he's You-Know-Who's enemy," observed Hermione.  
  
"That's different, Herm."  
  
"But we-we." She didn't seem to be able to say it.  
  
"Password," said Ron to the Fat Lady, who rolled her eyes, muttering darkly about stupid passwords.  
  
"We cheated on him, Ron!" said Hermione once they entered the empty common room.  
  
"He didn't love you, Herm!"  
  
"That's no excuse!" exclaimed Hermione agitatedly.  
  
"Of course it is! You were not in the right relationship!"  
  
"Did you see him when he looked at me? It was.it was." Hermione wrung her hands helplessly. Ron had never seen her look so in the dark.  
  
* * *  
  
"And then there's times you look at me,  
  
As if I'm all that you can see.  
  
Those times I don't believe it's right."  
  
* * *  
  
But the thing was that he did remember how Harry looked at her. Ever since sixth year, his eyes had carried a haunted, blackish shadow. Harry looked like he had nothing to live for, but after he'd hooked up with Hermione, he'd looked at Hermione in such a way that drove Ron crazy. When he set eyes on Hermione, his emerald eyes would light up, sparkling with a kind of happiness, a kind of hope.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"I do love her, Ron, really."  
  
"Harry, I-"  
  
Harry had grinned. "Thanks," he said.  
  
Ron hadn't said anything. Obviously, Harry thought he was congratulating him.  
  
"She's worth living for, really," said Harry wistfully.  
  
"Mmm."  
  
Harry patted him on the back fondly. "You'll find your beautiful damsel in distress someday, too."  
  
"Hermione's not in distress!"  
  
Harry's grin widened. "Maybe," he had said.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
Ron sat down and held his head in his hands.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"How could you, Ron? I trusted you. I loved you. You were like a brother to me." Harry's voice wavered, tears silently rippling down his face.  
  
"Harry-Harry-No, Harry you must understand!"  
  
"There's nothing to understand, Ron. I saw it. I might not have perfect vision, but I think I saw very clearly everything I needed to see."  
  
"Harry, I-Harry, you weren't made for Herm! Harry, I-"  
  
"Considering that *I'm* not made for her, I assume that you are doing me a favor?" Ron didn't like the way Harry's tone had changed. It was suddenly very cold, sarcastic. It was beyond reason. Harry's eyes flashed with a green he'd seen only once, when Dumbledore had stopped Harry's attempt to sneak out of Hogwarts and back to the Department of Mysteries. His eyes weren't their usual soft green, but like icy silver knives.  
  
Ice and metal.  
  
Hate and betrayal.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
"What have we done?" whispered Hermione.  
  
* * *  
  
In his office, Dumbledore smiled as he withdrew a very small blue bottle and a larger, black bottle before absorbing himself in a very interesting read.  
  
"The Lake of Life, also known as the Holy Lake, will not give up its precious waters unless it has a reason for it. So far, only one has been able to bottle up the water and come back unscathed. Nicholas Flamel, inventor of the Sorcerer's Stone (please check index pg. 8,438). Why this occurrence happened we did not know until Albus Dumbledore (please check index pg. 5,103) found that-"  
  
"Albus?"  
  
Dumbledore looked up to see Minerva McGonagall standing in the doorway. "Minerva," he said pleasantly, shoving the book calmly into his desk drawer. "Come in."  
  
* * *  
  
Pansy Parkinson raised one uninterested eyebrow at Gregory Goyle, Jr. who was trying (and failing horribly) to impress her. "Oh, go bother Millicent," cooed Pansy, trying to contain her annoyance.  
  
"Do you want me to?"  
  
"Yeah, sweetums." Goyle looked delighted at his new nickname. "Okies," he mumbled, vainly attempting a sexy smirk before bumbling off and leaving Pansy in peace.  
  
Now, thought Pansy very seriously, as she held out a silver-lined book and snuggled up in her favorite position next to the fire, with sufficient light to read. //How I wish I could snuggle up to Draco instead.//she thought longingly, but flicked open the book. //Now, where was that page on love potions.//  
  
As she skimmed the text rapidly, a heading title caught her eye.  
  
"To Kill Love"  
  
Utterly shocked, she closed the book, sending a small puff of dust into the air before she realized exactly what book she'd taken off Draco's shelf.  
  
Malfoy  
  
By Malfoy.  
  
* * *  
  
Miles away, Arthur Weasley sighed as he read the Latin script on his youngest son's wall. Who would think? He and Molly never checked, but he'd be damned if the Malfoys would ever forget about the incident four thousand years ago.  
  
Being a Muggle Artifacts worker, Arthur knew Latin, as Muggles (especially Muggle authors, including one called Edder Allen Poke.or something of the like) seemed fond of Latin.  
  
"Never has anything hurt like love,  
  
The way the blade can pierce your heart.  
  
Never has anything hurt like love,  
  
The way your tears seep through your fingers.  
  
Never has anything hurt like love,  
  
The way the whip slaps against your face.  
  
Never has anything hurt like love,  
  
The way nothing seems right anymore.  
  
Never has anything hurt like love,  
  
The way you don't seem to feel.  
  
Never has anything hurt like love,  
  
The way you can't stand the pain.  
  
Never has anything hurt like love,  
  
The way you know you've lost everything."  
  
Arthur smiled very bitterly.  
  
How very true that poem was. And meant only for Weasleys too.  
  
//Don't think of Molly//. Arthur forced himself to begin scrubbing away the brownish script.  
  
Below the poem were sets of anagrams and analogies. If Malfoys weren't known for their hesitance of revealing secrets, Arthur would've thought they had taken a couple too many standardized Muggle reading tests.  
  
Eventually the inscriptions slid from the wall with the grimy gray soap.  
  
One last phrase stood out against the wall before it, too, disappeared alongside the rag.  
  
"That's what love is."  
  
* * *  
  
* * *  
  
* * *  
  
* * *  
  
*A/N: Heh. I promise, no love potions. No love potions. No love potions. R&R! I only have like what, 9 reviews? *sniff* Please REVIEW!! ^^  
  
Next Chapter: Back to Delhi w/ Harry and Draco!! *blares sappy love tune on a tuba, though I don't know how to play* except this is an angsty story *slaps herself on head*  
  
Mucho encanta (uh.proper grammar?) para Edgar Allen Poe, esp. his story about Fortunato and the cask of something dry sherry. At the end of the chapter he says "Resquisant in pace" or whatever you spell it as in Latin (heh, no memory) which gave me a brainstorm. BTW the poetry, called "How Love Hurts" is solely by me, thank u very much (  
  
If you have any questions/comments, feel free to email me at: glassy_depths@hotmail.com!  
  
Now for the THANK YOUS:  
  
Zarah Radcliffe: Ooh! My first reviewer *big huge glomp* thank you thank you! I'm updating, see?  
  
Akemi-Masaki: Original? I thought the Erised was really cliché but if you say so! As for RL/SS.I'm actually thinking about adding that in there.or would anyone like Arthur/Snape? *grin*  
  
RedMeadow: OOOH thank you for putting me on your FAVE author list! *feels delightedly special* THANK YOU!! I'm updating!  
  
NayNymic: Yeah. It's Hermione! *grin* Hehe.angst is coming. And Pansy.is convenient ^^  
  
Lady.of.the.stars: OoO. I'm off to read "I Will Understand"!! It looks good (and a *lot* of ppl said it was good!) so anyway. Thank you! Hehe. I'm off to update on the Slytherin Slash Y!Group.if I can find it.  
  
Zim: Is it explained? Does it make sense why Draco was er.changed by Ch. 2? Anyways, thank you for the criticism.I'll keep it in mind!!  
  
Felise: Yeah, you can post WHJWWU (When He Just Won't Wake Up) at FA under your name since I'm no schnoogler anymore. But you *must* add me in your dedications and stuff ^^ you *did* help w/ the Witch Weekly Magazine Article *giggle*  
  
*~Lily~*  
  
P.S. My friend (aka Felise) had comments about the "only for Weasleys", so I want to clarify. The script can be read *only* by Weasleys, so Harry/Hermione can look at the wall but will see nothing. Good? 


	5. Ch5 Seeping Through Your Fingers

. . .Chikheart - Not All Sugar and Spice. . .

. . .Chapter Five: Seeping Between Your Fingers. . .

* * *

*A/N:

* * * indicates POV change, ~*~*~* fames lyrics,  * indicates passed time in one POV, and //…// indicates thoughts. 

· 

          I am SO SO SO SO SO sorry for the long wait. Really. Chapter 5 was merged with Chapter 6 originally, then I rewrote it because I just *hated* it. . .thus. . . my pathetic reason *sniffs stupidly*. . .but I rewrote it in one day! ::feels proud:: I wanted to make you guys happy ^^

For the future chapters, I will probably be updating every 2—3 weeks unless I've written bits n' pieces of it already (thus, 1—2 weeks to write, 1 –2 weeks for betaing). The first four happened to be prewritten ^^

Thank you so much Venenatus.Venustas and Juniper for betaing the original copy and Caitilin for looking it over. Then, thank you to Venenatus.Venustas and Juniper for betaing the revised copy^^ I know, Catilin, it's completely different, but still! V.V. thank you SO much for the honest comments. I need that *every* single chapter, really! And Juniper. . . that really was an excellent idea! ^^

The style of this chapter is. . . different. I have never written this type of stuff before. . .so I hope it's not too horrible. There is A LOT of POV and scene shifts in this chapter. Hope it doesn't confuse you too greatly ^^

Oh yes, and there is another slash pairing in this chapter! SURPRISE!

More thanks are at the bottom. And I'm *really* sorry for the wait. Chapters will begin becoming longer as the plot needs speeding up. Heh.

This chapter is dedicated to Ari Munami for her wonderful stand on gay pairings. You go ARI! 

THANK YOU to all reviewers! It's most "mind-boggling" (as Katanes-Dreamer put it) that people read my fic!! All in all, ENJOY!! (And review! More more more reviews!! ::pounds table:: Please please. . .I'm aiming for 40 reviews before Ch. 6 comes out) 

P.S. If you don't understand the "Molly" intermission, I suggest you go read Ch. 4 again (^^)

~*~*~*

I don't know who to trust no surprise  
  


Everyone feels so far away from me  
  


Happy thoughts sift through dust and the lies  
  


Trying not to break. . .  
  


Every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet  
  


All the tiring time between

And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me

~*~*~* 

* * *

"A most interesting turn of events," agreed Voldemort, drinking from a smoking goblet. "Yet, Bellatrix, you say we can turn this to our advantage?"

"Indeed, My Lord," said Bellatrix Lestrange, smoothing her hair. "The Malfoy boy is quite—upset—as they say, about being disowned, am I right, Lucius?"

"Very much so," answered Lucius. 

"And we have heard. . .about his soul partner?"

Lucius laughed a brittle laugh. "*Him*. Yes. Go on, Bellatrix."

"Your son does have exquisite and most—unusual—taste, Lucius," remarked the Dark Lord mockingly. "I wonder if it's inbred in Malfoys?"

Lucius stiffened. "I cannot begin to fathom what you are suggesting, My Lord—"

"I'm sure it's beyond your grasp, Lucius," sneered Voldemort. "But continue with your plan, Bellatrix."

"We will use him to break his soul partner when the time is ripe, bribing him with what he wants most." Bellatrix said, her eyes flickering in triumph. "You know what *that* is, Lucius?"

Lucius nodded.

"I see, but how to break his soul partner?" asked Voldemort.

Bellatrix smiled a lengthy cat-like smile. "We use our flower." 

* 

Half an hour later Lucius stepped gracefully out of his office to find Narcissa pointing an accusatory finger at him.

"YOU BASTARD!" she screamed.

Lucius stilled. "Narcissa," he said, deadly calm, "Did you—"

"You said you'd let him go free! You said you'd DISOWN him. . . you bastard. . . you hypocrite—this is our SON! Lucius—OUR SON!" 

Her screams rang throughout the manor. 

Lucius pulled out his wand.

"It's too bad you're shielded against memory charms," said Lucius carelessly. 

Narcissa backed away. "You bastard!" she spat. "I can't believe I married you—you despicable rat! I shouldn't have ever helped you out of Azkaban!"

"That comeback is growing old," said Lucius, pointing his wand directly at his wife. "Goodbye, Narcissa."

~*~*~*

Tension is building inside steadily  
  


Everyone feels so far away from me  
  


Heavy thoughts forcing their way out of me  
  


Every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet

All the tiring time between

Take everything from the inside and throw it all away  
  


~*~*~*

* * *

Molly Weasley was freezing as she unwrapped her Chocolate Frog. Her life in the Burrow seemed so faraway now, chatting with her children as she cooked while chastising Fred (or was it George?) for eating the cake dough and kissing Arthur fondly; and in the end, her cake still turned out delicious (or so they say).

She wondered how she could be so blind. Warning lights should have flashed through her mind when she saw that Skeeter's sister, with the charming young smile, the beautiful honey eyes, the wandering hands. . .

She had thought her Arthur could resist that kind of charm, alluring, inviting, and sexy as it may be. She had thought Arthur could resist that kind of charm for *her*. ****

People always said she thought too much and considered too little.

She looked at her dingy surroundings. An oil lamp was dripping oil all over her bag.

"Oh, dammit," Molly muttered, casting a cleaning charm on her bag. "This is ridiculous."

"Ma'am?" 

"What?" she snapped at the house-elf peeking from the doorway.

The elf trembled.

"I'm sorry about that dear," she said immediately. "What's that?"

"Someone's here to see you."

"Someone is here to see *me*? In Knockturn Alley? At midnight?" 

"Yes, ma'am."

"Who?"

"He refuses to give his name."

"What does he look like?" Molly asked apprehensively.    

"Short, red hair. . ."

"*Arthur*. . ." she scowled. "Tell him I'll be down in a minute."

"Yes, ma'am."

//I'm settling this once and for all.//

~*~*~*

I'll take everything from the inside and throw it all away  
  


Cuz I swear for the last time I won't trust myself with you

~*~*~*

* * *

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Love-strung men," he said.

Minerva bit down a chuckle before turning serious again. "But now we need a replacement Potions Master."

"Now," Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye. "I say we give the students a break. Cauldron fumes weren't my best friend at a young age either."

Minerva looked slightly startled at the suggestion. "Of course, Albus. Severus shouldn't be gone for *that* long. . ."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. 

* * *

There had been many reasons why Severus Snape turned from the Dark Side. The same things he'd left behind when he turned *to* the Dark Side, except now he couldn't take them back, even with his tears and prayers. They were lost.

The Dark Lord had offered him a permanent memory charm to forget all that had happened years ago, everything he'd given up for a tiny epitome of power. It seemed such a good deal back then. . .that bit of power. . .who was he to judge love to last forever?

He didn't know why, but he had refused.

Years later, as Severus gazed at the Mark on his left forearm, he fought his hardest not to let the tears fall from his eyes. He knew why he'd refused that day.

Because this love lasted forever.

*

"Severus Snape, Potions Master. You are sent from Dumbledore, *Professor*?" asked Percy Weasley, cocking one eyebrow smugly. 

"Yes," replied Severus shortly. 

"I'm sorry, but even Dumbledore cannot enter that Department. It's locked off. Only Mr. Fudge, the Unspeakables, and *I* can enter."

"This is vital to the Order!" growled Severus as a last resort.

"There will be no Order soon."

"What?!"

Percy nodded. "As I said, *Professor*, Mr. Fudge, though recognizing the return of You-Know-Who, believes that the Order should be reset and mingled with Aurors instead of being of group of Dumbledore's. . .personal sidekicks."

Severus clenched his hand into a fist. "I see, *Mr.*Weasley. I will be going then." he said.

"Enjoy your day." 

Severus had walked but two steps before turning around and shouting "_Imperio_!" Pointing his wand at Percy Weasley.

//Open the door to the Department of Mysteries,// commanded Severus.

Percy shook slightly, but opened the locked door.

//Thank you,// Severus thought before briskly walking in. He had to do this fast.

Instantly, the room spun so he had no idea which door he had entered from.

//Damn. . .which room was it. . . //

"Severus." A breathy woman's voice—it seemed familiar. . .

Severus jumped. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Are you from the Ministry?" 

"No. I know what you're looking for. Follow my voice."

"How do I know this isn't some trick?" asked Severus suspiciously.

"You don't." 

Severus sighed. Something was better than nothing. The Ministry would be after his blood in a few minutes' time. 

The voice was coming from his left. . .he opened the door. . .there were steps, leading up to an old archway on a dais. A black veil hung there, rippling slightly.

That veil was the fine line between life and death, the fine line separating him and. . .

Sirius.

Severus wanted to walk into that veil and find Sirius in all the people, wanted to find him and tell him how much he loved him and how he'd never *ever* leave him. . .not ever again. 

"You bastard," whispered Severus, falling to his knees. "Why'd you have to get yourself—killed. . .god, I *hate* you. . .oh, why don't you just come back. . .I love you. . .I always did. . . I refused that memory charm. . .you *bastard*. . ."

Only the gentle fluttering of the veil could be heard. 

Then suddenly a voice, different this time, called out to him:-

"Look up, Severus."

Severus looked up to stare into the eyes of Sirius Black.

* * *

~*~*~*

Take everything from the inside and just throw it all away  
  


Cuz I swear for the last time I won't trust myself with you  
  


You  
  


You

~*~*~*

Harry had trusted many things. He had trusted what people told him, believed them unconditionally. He had trusted that what starts in a way, ends the same way. He had trusted that Slytherins were evil, Gryffindors good, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in-between. He had trusted love to be forever and friends to stand with you all your life. The deepest, most fundamental structure in his soul had been trust.

*Had* been. 

It was always a bitter reflection to think that all the little things you didn't care about never left your side, and the bigger things you needed forever always crumbled and fell.

To Harry there were pieces of his trust lying all over the floor, and he pieced them together, held them by little silk strings next to his heart, and tried to forget.

To forget washed away pain and tears. To forget meant you could never get hurt. To forget meant you could deny things even if you knew they were true. To forget meant you could throw your trust away.

His trust was concealed in that little crystal ring he'd bought at Wompy Jewelers a year ago, now hidden somewhere in dust under his bed. 

Harry wanted to give his trust to Hermione and let her unleash it to the world. 

Too bad Hermione broke it before she even opened the box. 

* 

Night fell like snowflakes, dancing around the firelight. Harry retreated further into his robe and rubbed his eyes. 

"What's that Malfoy?" 

"You still haven't told me about the girl you shagged," Malfoy yawned, trying to lie vertically on the log they were sitting on. 

Harry looked away. "You first."

"Fine. None." 

Harry's jaw dropped. "None?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Now you."

"One." 

Malfoy looked incredulous. "You're kidding! You—got *laid*? Who was it, goodbye present from Chang?" 

"None of your business," said Harry through clenched teeth. 

"Fine." 

Silence.

The night stretched on, and the fire backed down shyly. 

"Why aren't the Slytherins supporting you this year?" asked Harry, rummaging through the bag Dumbledore had given him. 

"None of your business," said Malfoy flatly. 

"No really. You're not looking so up-to-shape this year." 

Malfoy's eyes flashed. "I said—"

There was something in the way Malfoy's frame had gone rigid and tense, the way his eyes were spitting angry sparks, the way he knew he was rubbing salt on bruised flesh that pleased Harry. Because he knew he could hurt someone too.

"Sore point?" Harry knew that he wasn't acting like a Gryffindor, and frankly, he didn't care.

Malfoy stood up. "I'm leaving." 

Harry looked at him. "Leaving, as in leaving the campsite, or leaving Delhi in general?"

"Campsite," muttered Malfoy, and stomped off. 

//Sore point indeed,// thought Harry.

* * *

Possibilities were always good, Lucius had said to Draco when he was young. Even the bad ones.

Draco liked to live life dangerously, and sometimes that shot him down. 

He had wanted the possibility to love, even with the possibility that he'd get hurt. Even bad possibilities are still possibilities, which made them good, in a sense.

When he was younger he trusted people to say what they stood by. Later he learned all people were hypocrites. But by the time you realized who didn't go along with what they said, it was too late. 

Some possibilities led to dead ends. The one Draco chose were one of those. 

"It's better to light a candle than to curse the darkness,"* people say soothingly. Draco wondered what happens when there are no candles left. 

Needless to say, he had no candles, no matches, nothing but a special blade and a healing potion.

It was enough for now.

* 

Draco looked down at the blade, admiring its faultless hilt, the angle light reflected off the edge. Everything had to be timed perfectly. 

It was dark out, only the distant campfire and moon sources of light, so Draco clutched his vial of potion carefully. He had one minute to enjoy the sensation.

Potter had brought back too many thoughts he'd rather forget. Tried to forget. He doubted that Potter didn't know the answer. It was too obvious. He (legally) *wasn't* a Malfoy, and his *allies* didn't want anything to do with a past Malfoy. They wanted a present Malfoy. It was all in the legal status. 

Draco sliced into his upper thigh, watching the blood pour out in rivulets like Fawkes' tears. It was so beautiful, the wet trail of it, coursing down his leg. Like ice and fire, swirling together in his blood. Draco smiled and un-stoppered the potion.

But in the end, beautiful things never last.

* * *

Harry was getting worried. //No,// he thought. //Let me restate that. I'm merely wondering if Malfoy has gone off and killed himself// 

He surely hoped Malfoy wasn't suicidal. 

He didn't want to let Dumbledore down, and he didn't particularly think a dead Malfoy would help that goal.

//Oh, goddamit,// he thought. //I'll just go after him.// 

* * *

//Just a second longer,// Draco implored to himself. //Just a tiny little bit longer.// It was completely dark out, and Draco knew if he stepped over the one minute line he was a dead man.

But then, even the bad possibilities. . . are still possibilities.

* * *

//This *was* the way he walked. . . wasn't it?// 

Harry wasn't sure, but he kept walking, holding his wand out in case of prowling nighttime animals. He didn't light up his path, not wanting to give Malfoy a clue that he was trying to find him.

It was then he tripped over something and fell bodily forwards.

He landed on something made of glass, complete with the tiny twinkling of its breaking.

"Ow," Harry muttered, reaching for his elbow, surprised to find liquid there. He hadn't thought the glass had penetrated so deeply. Harry shifted and sat up . . . to see Draco Malfoy staring at him in horror.

"Malfoy?"

"Oh my god," whispered Malfoy faintly.

"What?"

"I'm dead." 

"You look quite alive to me," said Harry.

Malfoy glared at him and pulled out his wand. "_Lumos,_" he whispered. Light surrounded them.

Harry stared. "You're bleeding!" he said, horrified. "God. . . rip off a bit of your cloth and wrap the wound up. . . it looks deep . . ."

"Too late," said Malfoy hollowly.

"What are you talking about?"

"That blade was a special blade—its cuts can't be healed unless that potion is applied within the minute." 

"Did. . . did I just break the potion bottle?" asked Harry weakly.

Malfoy nodded silently. 

"And your minute's up?"

Another nod.

"Oh," said Harry. 

* * *

The possibilities. 

Draco gaped at Potter before bursting into laughter. He pointed at the raven-haired boy and simply kept laughing.

Potter looked at him as if he'd gone insane. 

"Malfoy?"

"I'm dying! And all you can say is 'oh'?" Draco managed between laughs.

Potter's expression turned from contemplative with absolutely aghast. "You're *dying*?!" he exclaimed, almost violently, "Malfoy. . . this better not be some sick joke." 

"What does a 'wound that cannot heal' tell you?" Draco gasped out. "That flowers will sprout from my leg?"

"I thought—"

"What?"

"That's not the point—Malfoy. . . is there any way to heal you? Malfoy, STOP LAUGHING!" 

The situation wasn't funny, Draco knew. It wasn't even the slightest bit amusing. But he was bleeding to death after all. . . he could at least laugh before he died. And once he began laughing, he couldn't stop.

"Why. . .?" 

Potter grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "You are going to tell me a cure, right *now*," he growled. "You are *not* going to die, not while I'm here." 

"I'm your enemy, Potter—not too big of a loss to you."

"No one deserves to die except Voldemort. No one."

"You sure?"

"Too sure. Now tell me." 

"There is none," said Draco, and promptly began laughing (if possible) even harder.

"There *must* be. MALFOY!"

Draco quieted. "How do you know that I won't tell you to do something that will kill you? I am a *Death Eater* after all." 

Potter looked at him levelly, his eyes so very green, like the lights of a tunnel, blinking back at him against the starry night sky. "I know because you don't truly want to die, and I know that because I know how you feel."

"No you don't," spat Draco. "You're a *hero*. 'Regret' is probably not even part of your vocabulary." 

"How much," said Potter, his voice dangerously low, "do you want bet that's not true?"

Draco smirked. "My life," he said.

Potter's eyes narrowed. "Then you'd be dead." 

At that moment everything became fuzzy, and Potter's eyes blurred into one disjointed-looking green circle. 

"Oh really?" Draco murmured, suddenly feeling tired. His eyelids drooped.

//Soon I'll be in Hell. . .//

"Malfoy!" Potter's tone was frantic. "Malfoy! There *must* be a cure!"

"There is. . .one," slurred out Draco. "If someone doesn't want me to die. . . doesn't want me to die so bad they'd die so I won't die. . ." His head sagged from the lack of energy.

"Then?" whispered Potter, leaning closer.

"I won't die," said Draco, before everything tumbled into darkness.

* * *

* * *

* * *

* * *

Song by Linkin Park "From the Inside" 

*

*A/N: Do those qualify as cliffhangers? Because. . .they're supposed to ^^

Again, I am so horribly sorry for the wait. Really. I rewrote this! I hope it did not disappoint.

*the quote, I believe, is by Martin Luther King, but I'm not sure. It's a lovely quote though ^^ I used it in an essay once too. If you know for certain who stated this, please review (MORE MORE MORE!) and tell me or email me. I'll put it in Ch. 6.

This a new writing style for me, so please leave a review (MORE MORE MORE!) and tell me what you think about it.

Now, the thank-yous:

Naynymic – Thank you for everything and being so open! Hehe...I hope you liked this chapter better than the one I originally sent you to skim^^

Clay - *sigh* My flamer. *sniff* But. I'm having my beta checking and rechecking. I hope this chapter shows some "growth" ^^

Professor – Hehe. Pray tell, what do *you* think of the Dumbledore text? Heh. Don't worry, you'll know soon. I think maybe Ch. 7 or 8. 

Lady.of.the.stars – Am off to glomp "I Will Understand" Ch. 6 ^^ *sniff* your story makes me cry… 

Lemonlime – You two are adorable!! Just like SnippyandSnarky. Lemonlime sounds so adorably cute ::gushes:: teeheee! Here's the next chapter!! I was worried about Lemon's voice for a bit...

Tempest  - *feels happy* Am v. glad I sent it to Maeve to post at Mightier Than The Sword. Maeve is v. v. fast and nice ^^ Anyways, this story rocks? Really? Thank you! ::ego grows slightly:: 

wiseFool13 – Hmm...dirty H/D NC-17 smut? Well, FF.net bans NC-17 rated stuff, but I'm sure I could send you a personalized smutty chapter. Eh? ^^  

Marie – No no! Draco can still love. He's cursed to be *hurt* by love, but he REFUSED to perform the ritual, thus he was disowned. Am I making sense? ::looks sheepish:: but yes. Heh.

Sparklyblackblanket - *runs away* no knives please! I'll update! H/D action...anything...just...put down your knife, *please*!

Webba – Teehee! I was eating pita bread at the time ^^ Couldn't resist to not put that in.

You all made my day! It's *still* scary that people actually *read* my fics! ::feels mind-boggled:: THANK YOU!!! I 3 you ALL!!!! (And review!! MORE MORE MORE!! Yes. I think I need some therapy)

Reviewers at FA: All of you...come to FF.net - *please*? 

If you have any questions, feel free to email me at:

glassy_depths@hotmail.com

Cookies and other interesting update info is at my livejournal (users/lily_blossoms), my website (geocities.com/misty_sweet_lily), and my Yahoo Group (group/lily_and_lily) 

Oh! And I'm promoting my shiny new archive, STANDING IN THE SHADOWS. Can be found at (geocities.com/theshadows_archive). It's an exclusive H/D archive for newer writers. Have fun! 

Thank you! And of course, review!! 

3, 

Jen 


	6. Ch6 Because Everything Breaks

Chikheart 

Not All Sugar and Spice

Chapter Six – Because Everything Breaks

*A/N: Guess who's back? Back again? Jen Jen's back. . .tell a friend. . .

^^ Hehe. Excuse my sudden Eminem-ess. Anyways, I 3 you all! 61 REVIEWS! Whoa! ::rubs eyes:: Yup. Indeed, the number is still 61. *does little jig* You guys all ROCK! I'm aiming for 80 before Ch. 7 is up. I'd think we'll get there ^^ *glomps everyone*

Thank you guys so much! =) You're the people that keep me writing!

This chapter is for: kanoi_trace, iluvlabyrinth, sugar_shooter, brokeni, and goodbyejoshua.

It is also dedicated to the peoples at THE THIN LINE, a SS/SB archive =) 

More thanks are at the bottom (I am such a babbler...one A/N just isn't enough!)   

Of course, huge shoutout to my betas V.V., blue, Gertie and Juniper for their beautiful job on tearing my fic apart ^^. You guys ROCK! And V.V. said she liked this style, so I'm sticking with it. ::hands V.V. a cream puff flower and glomps:: 

Oh...of course, ~*~*~* frames lyrics, *** represents POV change, * is time passing in a POV change, and //...// frames thoughts. This chapter is written in um...a kinda first person/third person mix. I'm not sure what it is. Instead of "he remembered", it's "he remembers". If you like this way better, please tell me =) I'm experimenting to see which POV I'm most comfortable with and is the best sense of style. 

*A/N II* **NAYNYMIC, THIS REVISED CHAPTER IS SPECIALLY MADE FOR YOU. ONLY FOR YOU =)**

~*~*~*

See the rivers filled with rain  
  


I wish it could be blue again  
  


Hazy petrol nights  
  


Crimson sun on traffic lights

~*~*~*

Harry hates change.

Hates it with a passion, a ferocity that makes even the bravest dogs back down, tuck in their tails, and whimper. 

It seemed so perfect at first. Harry still remembers his first year, rowing across the lake and seeing the sparkling lights emitting from Hogwarts. He remembers his secret, tentative smile from within – _this_ was a stability he could cling to. _This _was something that could never be taken away from him, not like his bedroom, which changed on his Uncle and Aunt's whims; not like people's thoughts of him, which were commanded by his actions; not _himself,_ who changed—wilted—after knowing his life had been planned, *marked*, from the beginning.

He had thought his feelings towards Hogwarts - its moving stairs, its ghosts, its professors and students - would never change. Minor distractions, yes; a failed history exam may make him slightly more bitter towards Binns for a period of time, but in the end, Binns was still the "boring ghost teacher". Nothing less, and certainly nothing more. 

He had thought of Hogwarts like a rock he could cling to, confidently hugging it to his chest and knowing that after the thunder whispered into the distance he'd be exactly where he'd been before. 

He wants these assurances to never change. 

And Harry laughs to himself. He _wants._ It sounded so pitiful, a small wail in the torrents of a storm. 

He hates how change seems to follow him, wrapping itself around him and singing to him its lullaby that mutes his ears. 

He hates the knowing that he may not live beyond the age of seventeen, die alone, and have a grand tombstone for his valiant honor, whether he defeated Voldemort or not. He hates how isolated he's become, the constant unsteady throbbing of all his thoughts in his veins and no one to talk to. He hates the fact that erases all his denials—that Sirius is dead, just like his parents; hates that his plans to live with Sirius fell behind that veil along with Sirius' angled body. 

But most of all he hates how much one lone tear, sliding down Malfoy's cheek, can mean more to him more than his best friends' betrayal. 

~scene shift, still in Harry's POV~

*the night before, right after the poison incident*

Harry closes his eyes and wants Malfoy to live. It isn't much, nothing like the want he would have for Dean, Seamus, Lavender, even Cho—

Golden Gryffindor loyalty, as everyone called it; all that Ron and Hermione didn't deserve anymore. Harry vividly remembers the last time they had something relatively close to a "conversation" beyond simple pleasantries to keep the media off their backs. He had to fight the overwhelming anger calling to him, to turn to the nearest glass pane and break it until it bled.

 __

Malfoy's eyes are like glass. Harry yearns to see them bleed.

But glass doesn't bleed. It just breaks into those miniscule shards and mocks him, never turning away.

Harry thinks maybe if Malfoy died his eyes might just bleed, but he pushes that thought away and scrunches his eyes, focusing his mind on a living Malfoy before his eyes. At least Malfoy is a constant; Harry hates him, and Malfoy hates him back. It is reassuring, almost—and even if enmity is discouraged, Harry finds satisfaction in their rivalry, as jagged a rock as it is, bruising his hands as he holds the edges, mixing rain with his blood. 

But why does he want Malfoy alive? Wouldn't it be so much better if…

_"No one deserves to die except Voldemort. No one."_

But Sirius died, hadn't he? His parents died, hadn't they? 

_"I know because you don't truly want to die, and I know that because I know how you feel."_

"No you don't. You're a *hero*. 'Regret' is probably not even part of your vocabulary."

Regret blinds Harry, ushers him to the depths of his hate so that he sees red and smiles. Regret follows him, cuts him like a double-edged sword.

"'Regret' is probably not even part of your vocabulary."

Harry clenches his teeth. He wants Malfoy to live, wants him to live so he can show him exactly what 'regret' is to him.

Everything.

Around him, the sky turns the hue of a dying red rose.

~*~*~*

A perfect day a perfect night  
  


Tell me all those perfect lies  
  


And lie back in the garden till it's light

Now tomorrow's here today

  
And yesterday's todays just fade away

~*~*~*

~scene shift, back to present~

Malfoy's eyes were bleeding tears.

Harry feels a vaguely sick feeling rising in his stomach. It wasn't compassion, bravery, or love that brought Malfoy back, like when he'd saved Ginny or Sirius, battling with young Voldemort and hundreds of Dementors.

It was his want to see something that clear and icy bleed. Not just _break,_ but _bleed._

Harry looks upwards, tries to divert his attention away. All he sees is the wispy November fog shading the sky, dark and shrouded as himself.

Yet at the same time the tear draws forward his attention, being so aptly beautiful and furiously painful at the same time.  

_Tears should be rain from the soul._

_But this one – this one is silver blood that doesn't know where to fall._

Harry doesn't say anything, and knows he won't ever say anything of this to Malfoy. He would have to lie. 

But.

That will be tomorrow, when Malfoy isn't shredding Harry's perception into pieces, Harry can lie to himself, saying he's done something heroic in hoping for his worst enemy to live. 

Tomorrow.

Today could just crystallize in that silver tear. 

* 

Harry is marveling at the perfect shape his scrambled eggs when Malfoy wakes up.

Malfoy sits up and glares at him furiously, as if hating him for liking scrambled eggs. 

Harry sighs. He was just beginning to enjoy the silence. 

"Guess that if I have to be in Hell, you'd be in it too," says Malfoy. 

Harry says nothing; simply squints to see if the trail of the tear could still be seen. 

It's gone. 

"Looks remarkably like the place I died," says Malfoy, eying the scenery. "Looks like Satan cares for his sinners individually." 

Gone. 

"Potter? You feeling alright? Or is this the version I'm stuck with – The Boy Who Does Not Talk?" 

It takes a while to sink in. 

"Fuck it Malfoy – what was that cursed blade you used? Obviously it wasn't working correctly, because you lived anyway, despite my oh-so _valiant_ attempts to rescue you," says Harry bitterly. 

Malfoy just stares at him, confusion spreading like forest-fire in his eyes. 

"I'm not—dead?" 

"You should be," says Harry, his hand turning into a fist, "but you _aren't."_

Malfoy just continues staring. 

~*~*~*

The perfect stare of perfect eyes

  
They kiss you as they tell you lies

  
And wonder where you're going, where've you been

  
In towers high with time to fill

  
Gardens on your window sill

  
In between the pavement and the sky

Tell me why all the words will never come out right

  
Fumbling blind, I've been driving through the danger signs

~*~*~*

***

"This is an illusion," says Severus, his breathing becoming uneven. His voice grew harsher. "That's what you always were – an illusion. And I was stupid enough – to – "

"Be blinded by it?" whispers Sirius. 

"Yes," replies Severus. "But it's not an illusion anymore, because I'm _in_ it. And you're here to take it away, aren't you?" 

I'm in it and the world isn't real anymore – because you're the only thing that's real, but you're just another illusion. 

"I'm here to say goodbye," says Sirius, a pale, translucent hand reaching towards him; fingertips tracing his cheeks. 

"Why?" asks Severus, nausea overcoming his senses. He hates how Sirius' ghost touches him – brands him with something like Sirius but something gone and dead and…

"Don't touch me." Severus scrambles away, holding his cheek where Sirius stroked. "I don't want a memory of _you_ – I want one of Sirius, back in school, where his touch was rough and warm and _real._" 

"Sirius is dead." 

"Who are you?" 

The figure smiles sadly. "I came to deliver a message. Sirius' message." 

Severus swallows and his surroundings turn blurry. "What is it?"

"He wants me to tell you…he says goodbye and—"

_Goodbye because he's dead and I'm dead to him._

"I'm going," Severus says, albeit he would be arrested for his use of the Unforgivable Curse the moment he walked out of the Department. 

And he walks down the steps, clumsily but never hearing his shoes clunk against the thick wood.

"—And that he loves you."

Severus stops and turns around, his heart thumping madly in his throat. 

He does not see the ghostly figure.

So he closes his eyes, years full of suppressed emotion fluttering through the air as he breathes the wooden scent of the room. 

_Sirius died here._

Severus thinks perhaps he is hallucinating, but a rough finger gently touches his cheek. 

_Goodbye._   

And a stifled sob fills the room, but it does not come from Severus.

Sometimes ghosts cry too, for love cut by such a thin line.

~*~*~*

A perfect day a perfect night

  
Tell me all those perfect lies

  
And lie back in the garden till it's light

  
Perfect silence me and you

  
It's really me, I really do

  
Remember every moment magnified

~*~*~*

*** 

Draco says nothing, but something akin to horror flashes in his eyes. 

Perfect green eyes stares him down. Glassy mirrors that reflect **him**.

_And it rips his mask into shreds, flesh and bone and no more silver blood to cover him up. _

_Red blood. _

_Because he's human, just like everyone else, and it's so beautiful it blinds the eyes._

"What the fuck did you *do*?" 

Potter looks away. 

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?" screams Draco, fire blazing in his eyes. 

_Strange how grey eyes can hold so many flames and never even wither._

_Green eyes smolder into ashes._

Potter turns and stares at him, "Shut up, Malfoy," he says with that amazing calm. "We need to get the fuck out of here." 

Draco tells himself to breathe. "What did you do – sign a treaty with the Devil? How *kind* of you. I'm honored." 

He never expected Potter to seize him by the collar. 

"One more word Malfoy, and you're going to _die_ and I mean it." 

Draco laughs. "Going to kill me, Potter? Going to dirty your golden hands with murder?" 

_Emerald eyes are different. Emerald eyes don't smolder. They burn even brighter._

"I hate you," says Potter.

"The feeling is mutual." 

Potter seems to regain his composure. Draco isn't even sure what made him lose it in the first place. 

He looks at Draco with an odd, analytical gaze. 

"Don't ever change that." 

And he smiles. 

*** 

Everyone goes insane after awhile. It was the good luck of Harry to get Draco Malfoy as a stepping stone. 

_What did you do?_

His answer hadn't been a lie – just the truth crusted under too many layers to cut. All those lies would have been so easy, but Malfoy's eyes burned them away.

Harry contemplates that perhaps Malfoy was more than a stepping-stone; maybe he was the driver, too. 

_Malfoy's eyes. Silver licking at blue. _

He sits at the campfire, dimly aware of the miles they traveled that day. He tries to push the incident out of his mind – he was a hero, after all; no use dwelling on little events such as these. After all, Malfoy _is_ alive – he did his job; the route he took did not matter.

"You don't know the significance of what you did, do you Potter?"

Harry doesn't even look up. "I don't want to know." 

But Malfoy ignores this. 

"You had to _love_ me to be able to bring me back." 

A sharp, brittle chuckle from Malfoy.

_You had to love me._

Lightning strikes a tree, far into the distance. 

It splits down the middle, showing as plainly as nature can that two forces can never exist as one.

_*_

_*_

_*_

_*_

_*_

_Song by Lightning Seeds, "Perfect Silence"_

***

W00t! Finally! Six is finished =D. I have never heard of the Lightning Seeds before, but the lyrics were wonderfully good, so I used them =). 

THANK YOU SO MUCH for the positive feedback! *huggles everyone* You guys all deserve one huge ice cream sundae with chocolate syrup, sugary sprinkles, and a whole lot of butterscotch. ;D

On a less (hungry) note, here are all those thanks to my reviewers:

Naynymic: Oh goodness. I changed it all for you. 333333333333

Mythistica : I pay them no mind =) Am so glad you liked it. *gives cookie*

Marie: *cackles like maniac* The evilness overtakes me ;D 

Borian: With heart? =) Thank you…I hope this chapter had heart too! 

Sparklyblackblanket: I think we need handcuffs, savvy? =D =D =D  

Jess: Funny? Hmmmm…that's an interesting…perspective…

Juniper: Heee. Hee. Hee. *hee hooa* Am in a sense of overexcited bearings of coffee-induced nerve skydiving. Hee hee? Hee haww? ;) 

Felise: You didn't call! *pouts* Anyway. Well…I forgot…

Gertie: You're back!! Yay!!! =D Missed you immensely. *pats* but Sevvie and Sirius are so cute! *giggles* 

Tara (sugar_shooter): Shall compel you into the evils of LJ doom very shortly…*evil laugh*…that makes no sense whatsoever. However, lots of 33 to you! 

Jenny (Brokeni): You rule. No. You RULE. No. YOU RULE!!!! =D I'll have to IM to sometime to discuss that little fic we're to be writing =P. I reviewed for Fait Acompli (sp?)…nice start =D I shall find them to read it when I finish reading "Holes", which I just bought. I love that book immensely. 33333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Goodbyejoshua: Interesting…is CafePress free? That's awfully nice…perhaps I'll start my own stand too =D. Of all else, THANK YOU for sticking w/ me! 

Iluvlabyrinth: *hands tissue* I don't want to make anyone cry! But thank you =) 

Kanoi_Trace: Hey…how you doing? You haven't been on LJ for quite a bit…I miss you. Besides…your icon brightens my day considerably! 3

Delfus: *smirks* Evil Gryffindor indeed. *shows off her red-and-gold scarf proudly* 

sapphire-wolf1: Hehe. Sugar is good ;) I hope this chapter isn't confusing… :sweatdrop: I am a confusing author…

Professor: *seals mouth* Narcissa is a grain of salt who hasn't been fully crystallized yet =D

Kerstin Malfoy Potter: I 3 the inner dialogue! *pats* Hee…hee…heehehe! *goes bungee-jumping with your conscience* Thank you for adding me to your fave Author/Story list!! It means a LOT!

fishno12: *bows* thank you. I'm taking this slow since I've haven't really written the transition time into an H/D relationship before, so I'm hoping when they do get together, they're be…comfortable =) 

rose: *blush* I always thought my Draco was slightly OC…but thank you so marvelously! *offers early Halloween treats*

Zara: bossiness is good ;) Helps make the initiative. Thanks so much for reading! *glomps*

evilraven: This chapter barely has any dialogue *nervous laugh* I hope it's still okay…

FandomAvenger: Thanks Erin! FF.net kinda messes my styling of the eclipses…*jots notes* thank you! 

~*~*~

Also, I wanted to send mass hugs to Bethany, whom as just archived me at her lovely Malfoy Slash Archive =). If you'd like, you can visit my own archive! For newer H/D writers =) … perfect-memory.net/shadows (no www). Oh, and thank Leeje, by lovely hostess for her grandness.

On a more tearful note, I just finished "Beautiful World" by Cinnamon and I cried myself dry. *sniffs* You all go read it, or else I will be extremely knackered. *sniff* 

Am expecting blue to give birth to a very…high-heeled fic, let's say? She shall be producing a Hermione/Ginny fic involving boots…however the plot goes. =) 

Last note! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!! And *please* review. It helps so much you can't imagine. *blows kisses* 

~Jen 


	7. IMPORTANT AN: MUST READ

I hate to say this, everyone.   
  
But Not All Sugar and Spice is over.   
  
It's dead. I'm very sorry everyone who liked it and reviewed. I appreciate to the bottom of my little heart, but NASAS just can't be continued. I personally hate the direction it's going (aka how AU it is) and it simply breaks me to write about Ron & Herm in such a way, since I love them both.   
  
A lot of the stuff I had planned will be written in my new chaptered fic -   
  
All The Little Pieces (ALP)   
  
Special hugs and much gratitude to **goodbyejoshua** **sugar_shooter** **brokeni** **oddball28** **xxmalfoyfiend** Naynymic, **digindeeper** (thank you SO much V.V! You are the best!) **egoteabsolvo** and **kanoi_trace**   
  
I'm really sorry. But i just can't continue NASAS anymore.

   
  
  



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